


Lover Tell Me If You Can

by superqueerdanvers



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (but mostly fluff), Fluff and Angst, M/M, The Magnus Archives Season 5, Weddings, being the archivist makes you qualified to officiate weddings right?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:19:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25025296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superqueerdanvers/pseuds/superqueerdanvers
Summary: They were trudging through the space between domains when Martin broke the silence. “Do you ever think about what could have been?”
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 18
Kudos: 117





	Lover Tell Me If You Can

**Author's Note:**

> This is somewhat inspired by @ginabresby's amazing fic, "Close Your Eyes and Play Pretend."
> 
> Title comes from "Wedding Song" from Hadestown.

They were trudging through the space between domains when Martin broke the silence. “Do you ever think about what could have been?” Jon glanced at him and raised his eyebrows, and he continued. “If Elias – Jonah, whatever – hadn’t sent that statement, I mean. If the world was still… normal, and we were still living in Daisy’s cabin.”

“No point, is there? We can’t change it.” Jon’s voice was flat, dismissive.

Martin sighed. “Jon…”

“What?”

“I know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?”

“Being all… all cold, and cynical. You sound like you did when you first became Head Archivist, before Jane Prentiss attacked. You ripped any statement with a bit of truth in it to shreds because you were scared, and you’re doing the same thing now.” Martin looked up at Jon, his arms crossed.

“I’m not –“

“You’re not scared?” Martin half-laughed. “Because I am! I’m terrified! We’re living in an apocalypse world run by eldritch fear gods, Jon. It’s okay to be scared!” He sighed and uncrossed his arms, and his voice softened. “Just… can you please not stomp on every scrap of happiness we have?”

After a moment, Jon took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” They walked on in silence, then he added, “It’s just… we were happy there, and Jonah sent that statement. We thought we could still be safe there, but it just wanted to keep us there until we rotted. And now we’re traveling towards the Panopticon on the idea that we’ll somehow be able to make things better, but… but what if we can’t? What if we do all this, and we don’t change anything? Or we make it worse somehow?”

Martin nodded. “You can’t trust comfort.”

“Exactly.”

Martin took Jon’s hand. “And yet, you’re still moving forward. Look, maybe we can’t make a difference. But what’s the harm in trying? I highly doubt we’ll make it worse.”

He squeezed Jon’s hand. Jon didn’t reply, but when he glanced up at him, he saw the ghost of a smile on his face. “And I know imagining what might have been doesn’t change anything, but it’s… it’s nice. Even if it’s not real. And I think we deserve nice,” Martin added.

After a minute, Jon said, “We’d need to get our own place. We can’t stay in Daisy’s safe house forever.”

“Oh?” Martin grinned. “What kind of place were you thinking?”

“I don’t know, nothing too big or fancy. Maybe a nice flat. Or maybe something out in the country, with cows.”

“Good highland cows,” Martin added.

Jon smiled down at him. “Definitely. And I could get a job as a teacher, or a librarian…”

“And I’d write my poetry and become known as ‘that poet who always writes about his husband…’”

“Husband?” Jon stopped. “Martin, is this a proposal?”

Martin flushed. “I… no, I… uh… I mean… Do you want it to be?”

Jon’s smile broadened. “You know what? Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Well okay then.” Martin got down on one knee and beamed up at Jon. “Jonathan Sims, will you marry me?”

“ _Yes_.” Jon pulled him to his feet and kissed him.

The kiss ended, and Martin laid his head on Jon’s chest, listening to his boyfriend’s – his _fiancé’s_ – heartbeat and enjoying the feel of his arms around him. Jon closed his eyes and buried his face in Martin’s hair. “I guess we’ll need to find a priest, or a judge, or something,” Martin said with a grin.

“Hm?”

Martin pulled back to meet his eyes. “To officiate our wedding.”

“That’s the problem with getting married in the apocalypse. No one to officiate it.” Jon hesitated. “Unless… I could do it.”

“What, you’re an ordained minister or something?”

He raised his eyebrows self-importantly. “I’m the Archivist. The Entities are the gods of this world, and the Eye rules them all. I’m the closest thing this world has to an ordained minister. You heard Callum, I’m real important.”

Martin almost laughed at the dryness with which he said “real important.” “Okay, but can you officiate your own wedding?”

Jon shrugged. “Why not? Who else is going to do it, Helen? Annabelle Cane? Elias?”

Martin nodded, smiling. “Good point. So what, are we just going to get married right here, right now?”

Jon smiled gently. “Do you want to?”

“I’d love to.”

“Okay.” Jon tucked a piece of stray hair behind Martin’s ear, then took his hands. “I, Jonathan Sims, take you, Martin Blackwood, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.”

Martin’s face hurt from smiling so hard. “I, Martin Blackwood, take you, Jonathan Sims, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.”

Jon looked down at their joined hands. “I’m sorry I don’t have a ring to give you.”

Martin reached up and tucked Jon’s hair behind his ears. “That’s okay. We’ll know we’re married.”

Jon smiled. “Well then, by the power invested in me by the Ceaseless Watcher, I now pronounce us spouses for life.”

They kissed, and the world was almost okay again. After a moment, they pulled apart. Jon leaned his forehead against his husband’s, and Martin smiled. “I love you, Jon.”

“I love you, too.”


End file.
